


Coming back to you.

by oo0_oo0



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Architecture College Student Marco, Fluff and Angst, Ghost Marco, Jean has unicorn colored hair, Jean thinks his therapist Levi is a mafia boss, M/M, Marco calls Levi a little guy, Mental Instability, Reincarnation, Self Harm, canon character death, painter Jean, parallel dimensions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:38:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oo0_oo0/pseuds/oo0_oo0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They think I’m crazy,” I whispered to the window plane. Outside it was snowing again, white and frosty, I could barely make out the tips of the tall pine trees. The voice giggled, light and bubbly, like a string of silver bells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming back to you.

“They think I’m crazy,” I whispered to the window plane. Outside it was snowing again, white and frosty, I could barely make out the tips of the tall pine trees. The voice giggled, light and bubbly, like a string of silver bells. _But you are jeanbaby,_ he says teasingly. _Your hair is unicorn-colored._ He is close enough for me to feel the warm puff of breath near my ear. I reach out instinctively to grab his hand, to tackle him to the ground, tickle him till he’s pink and doubled over, hug him, kiss him breathless, one kiss for every freckle sprinkled over his tanned cheeks. But there’s only a cold gush of air slipping through my fingers. I hear a crash as he recoils backwards.

The black earthware vase that was sitting atop the coffee table lay on the floor in pieces. The plum blossoms it held lay scattered, and water was soaking through the wooden floor panels. “Shit! Fuck, I’m dead. I’m fucking dead. That’s not any vase Mar – Levi’s gonna fucking kill me.” I look at the empty space beside the broken pieces of porcelain in horror.

He giggles and it tinkles like little bells again. I’m trying hard to keep my scowl from breaking into a stupid grin, but the sound makes me feel warm and tingly all over and –

“Hey w-wait Marco!” I yelp, but his fingers are already making their way under my shirt, prodding at my ribs. I erupt into hysterics. “It – it’s not fa–ir, I – he-y-no-ju-ust-stop – ” I’m rolling on the ground, trying to fend off his fingers with my elbows, but he doesn’t let up, he’s walking his fingers up my sides. A heat flares up in my gut as I realise he has straddled both his legs on either side of my hips so I can’t escape. “Al–alright–a–lright I – I give up!” I manage. He laughs and stops. I catch my breath, adrenaline still pumping through my veins from the momentary contact.

_You said my name,_ he says beaming. You said my name, he says. His freckly cheeks are flushed pink. Suddenly my chest hurts. My breath is coming up short, and I want to reach out to cup his face between my hands, but I don’t.

I just smile back.

_I think it’s adorable how you are so frightened of the small guy_ , he says, his voice still teasing and light. I look at him incredulously. “Have you seen the man? He could take down an entire gang of men if he wanted to.” _He used to be a boxing coach, not a mafia boss,_ he laughs. He laughs a lot when he’s with me. ~~Laughed a lot when he was with me.~~ Even though I am such a grouch.

I roll my eyes and laugh a little too because he’s here, and I’m here. And he’s squatting on the floor trying to clean up the mess with the small pan and broom Levi keeps in the corner of every room. He’s wearing that stupid Spiderman t-shirt he used to wear in college.

I walk over and squat down beside him. “I’ll help you, Marco.”

I say his name again, and it is my apology.

Because I should remember by now. Shouldn’t have reached out to grab his hand now. Should have done it sooner before. Should have, shouldn’t have, should have – I am doing everything all wrong.

The dustpan is full, but he is still sweeping. His head is lowered, so I can’t see his eyes through his dark bangs. I start picking up the larger pieces with my hands.

There is a knock on the door. Armin comes in and sees me kneeling on the floor pieces of broken shards in my hands. His blue eyes widen for a second, and then grow dark with understanding. He heaves a sigh like this is the last straw, and turns around abruptly to head downstairs. I hear the click-clack of his oxford shoes on the wooden steps. I am mildly surprised by his reaction until I turn and realise that there is blood on my hands. A lot of blood, it’s dripping down my arms onto the wooden floor. It looks like the scattered red petals of plum blossoms. Fuck he has gone to get Levi, I think. He has gone to get Levi _again_ , and we’re going to have those talks _again._ And not about the fucking vase this time.

 

~

 

_You don’t call me darlin’ anymore, Jeanbaby,_ he days one day slouching on that old sofa I keep in my studio.

‘I can’t’ is all I say. I keep painting. I lay on the oil pigments thickly with my brush, and hope that the large canvas hides my face from him. I can’t, because it makes me want to hold you, feel your warm flannel shirts under my fingertips, breath in your scent. Whisper the word softly against your skin, hoard it like a secret on my tongue.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I know I have the world's worst track record in finishing fics. But I was having wayyyy too much JeanMarco feels, and I needed to write this. The next short chapter is coming soon, since I've written most of it already. Hope you enjoyed this. Comments and kudos always welcomed!


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